I’ll just let that sit there for a moment. One thousand men in one year…
It may not be an international record – there are stories of men in the early 1980s reaching two or three or even four thousand – but it’s a pretty good score.
Why did I do it? Well, you may remember that I wrote a column about New Year resolutions last year, in which I suggested that the best way to make a real change in your life was not to try to give something up, but to do more of what you love.
And what I truly, deeply love is sex. So I decided to give it a try: I set myself a target, and started towards it.
They say that the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. It’s the same with sex: the journey of a thousand men starts with a single fuck. I decided that if I was going to do this thing, I needed to do it properly, so I gave up my usual trip to a club for New Year, and went to a sauna instead.
As soon as the chimes of Big Ben had died away, and the last televised firework had exploded on the screen, I headed for the steam room.
There was just one guy in there. About my age, average-looking, reasonable-sized bulge under his towel. He’d do for a start. I sat down opposite him, slipped my hand under my towel, and teased my cock.
No point in being coy about it: I was there for sex, and so, presumably, was he, so we might just as well get on with it. He looked at me through the steam, and after a minute or so his cock twitched under his towel.
I took this as a positive sign, and, thinking “might as well let the dog see the rabbit”, I pulled my towel away and started stroking for him. After a few moments he did the same, then leaned over and took my cock in his mouth. And I was off the starting blocks.
One of the things I had to decide when setting my target was “what counts as sex?” Just wanking or being wanked by another guy struck me as too little: in dark-rooms and saunas stroking another guy’s cock is rather more common than saying hello or shaking hands.
Fucking, on the other hand, seemed to me to be rather too high as a benchmark, though of course it would certainly count as sex for record purposes.
In the end I settled on “one or more of sucking, fucking, rimming or fingering”, with the proviso that sucking had to be enthusiastic – no perfunctory bobbing up and down, it had to be the real thing. Oh, and no repeats, of course: it had to be a new guy every time.
Although I started off pretty well, I didn’t make steady progress towards my goal.
Pressure of work knocked me out of circulation in May and again in October, and although there were days like 23rd July (21 men in 24 hours of clubs and parties), there were other days when nothing happened at all, and I fell badly behind.
I went into the last quarter seriously worried that I might not make it. In November, though, I really put my back into it, and in my memory the month is a blur of parties, hook-ups, darkrooms and saunas.
As I think I said last issue, I was still behind target at the start of December, but the goal was in sight, and seemed just about attainable. Fortunately, the holiday season was good to me, and by Christmas I was tentatively optimistic.
I’ve forgotten a lot of the men I had sex with, but I won’t forget Number One Thousand. It was two days before New Year, and I was back in the sauna I’d started the year in.
When I arrived I wasn’t sure if I was going to reach one thousand in that visit or not, but I got lucky, and it seemed like no time before I was wiping Mr 999’s cum off my chest.
I was just about to head to the bar for a quick drink when I realised I was being cruised. I looked at him, and he looked at me. He was shorter than me, cute, with dark eyes and black hair. Yes, I thought, he’d be very acceptable indeed. I went over and started chatting, and it only took a few minutes before we were in a private room.
He was sweet and horny and eager to please, and I realised that I didn’t just think he was cute, I actually liked him as a person. He was Indonesian, a nationality that I hadn’t covered during the year, so he checked another box for me.
We didn’t fuck, but we sucked and rimmed – he did both admirably well – and it didn’t take long for us to reach the wiping up stage. And then I told him what I’d just done, and who he was to me.
I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but he just laughed and said yes, he’d love to join me for a celebratory drink, but he had to find his friend first.
As it happens, I found his friend before he did, so by the time we met up at the bar I’d boosted my total to 1,001.
Then to complete the day, after we’d finished a bottle of wine between us I got distracted by a naughty brunet on the way to the shower, so when I left my total had reached 1,002. And that was where I left it for the year. One thousand and two men.
One interesting thing I’ve discovered since reaching the magic 1,000 is that when I mention my achievement to people they don’t always believe me.
Perhaps it’s that I don’t look the type – I’m an ordinary-looking guy, and you could walk past me on the street and never imagine that I’ve had more men in one year than most people have in a lifetime.
Or perhaps it’s the immensity of the number that makes it unbelievable – hell, I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and think “How did I manage that?” But the data is all right there in my spreadsheet: names (where I got them), where we did it, and little notes when we did something particularly interesting or hot.
Even though not everyone believes me, I know what I did, and for the rest of my life I’ll be able to look back on my annus mirabilis and think to myself, “I did something astonishing”.
Now here’s the bit where I do my Oscar-winner’s speech: I’d like to thank all of London’s great sexual health organisations, particularly the staff of the local clinic I attend, who give great advice on the care and maintenance of your body, and all your (ahem!) equipment.
I get regular sexual health check-ups, and if you’re not already in the habit I definitely recommend it. Clinic staff are completely unshockable, and they’re all in favour of sex: they just want us to play safe, as well as hot. I took their advice, and their free rubbers.
Thanks to those, I tested negative for HIV at the start of the year, and again at the end of the year, more than a thousand men later.
But the people I’d really like to thank most of all are the 1,002 men I had sex with over the course of the year. Every single one was great. If you were one of them, thank you: you’ve been part of one of the greatest experiences of my life.